


Nephilim

by Mesa_Boogie



Series: Nephilim Life [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Baby, Harpy, Hospital, Hunting, M/M, Nephilim, SPN - Freeform, Seattle, Supernatural - Freeform, Washington
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-14
Updated: 2014-01-15
Packaged: 2018-01-04 14:30:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 14,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1082113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mesa_Boogie/pseuds/Mesa_Boogie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's kidnappings in Seattle Washington that has captured Sam and Dean's attention. And so the brothers look into the matter. Who/what is snatching people and leaving feathers?</p><p>Something is wrong with Castiel....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

When he had been sent down to Earth to watch over his Father’s creation (humans), quietly and invisible, he watched them evolve from mud and cave dwelling monkeys, to the war mongering Romans and Huns (he found wars to be quite boring, nothing like what God’s angels at war in heaven), to what they are presently. He had watched over their habits, their likings and their dislikes. Their sex is repetitive (boring repetition). But humans today, have evolved even beyond the many things Castiel has seen from them.

 

‘Numb’ would be the word he would use to describe how his vessel is feeling at the very moment in time. Numb and tingling, like after sticking your finger in a wall socket and feeling the electricity jolt through one’s system. He can sense all the nerves in his body are on high alert, just waiting for the next touch, next caress. His adrenaline is spiking high and he feels that is all that is keeping him going.

There are bruises leading in a line down the outside of his thighs and up around his hollow rib cage. Bruises in shapes of gripping fingers in a array of colours; red, purple, blue and black. There are long red bleeding finger nail scratches down the length of his spine, but he does not care. Just craving more. The tickling of stray drops of blood roll across his skin and fall down onto the leather interior seat beneath him.

There comes a yank at the wide, denim blue, leather dog collar synched tight around his throat. He shifts his legs and arches his back, hands reaching out for the door handle and hand crank for the window of door in the Chevy Impala’s back seat. Pressing his face against the cool steamed up window, leaving streaks and his finger prints. He is sweating profusely, his hair laying slick down against his scalp and dribbling down by his temples. Being rocked back and forth by the rhythm of Dean’s hips.

Cas bites his bottom lip looks back over his right shoulder to the strong bold hunter positioned behind him. Stern and powerful. Dean is like a bull deer in rutting season, and there’s nothing that will slow him down. Not that Cas ever wants him to stop.

Dean’s hands are back to gripping tightly at his boney hips, creating new bruises against Cas’ vessel’s pale white skin. He can’t help what is already programmed inside of him, to moan. It comes up from deep in his chest first, up his throat, and out of his mouth. A deep rumble that seems to satisfy Dean, as the hunter pauses in his rutting and thrusting. There’s the tug at his collar again, head turning back and Dean catches his mouth in a searing heated kiss. 

Cas admits, he’s still all new this ‘making out’, letting Dean do all the work at kissing. The hunter shoves his tongue into his mouth, pushing back his own and then running it up along the roof of his mouth and pulling back with a smack. 

“Fuck, Castiel,” he groans and the angel shudders, not liking it when Dean curses. “Fuck, I’m close...so fucking close,” he pants lowly, pulling Cas away from the door. Turning him around to sit in his lap. He looks down on the strong hunter now beneath him. His expanse of muscles and tan skin. His fingers tenderly brushing against his anti-possession tattoo over his left pectoral. Dean catches his fingers quickly and taking them into his mouth to suck and nibble on.

He is filled with a sensation all together new to him. Something he has never felt before. No feelings he could even compare with his warming sensation. Eyes closely studying Dean’s face of concentration and pure ecstasy. Dean is quick to shift him till his back is down against the leather seats and the hunter looms over him with a deep gutturally growl.

This is what females must feel like when the male spills his seed deeply inside them. When he watched Earth, he watched the ritually over and over, but every time the female acted different every time the male came. But this must be the feeling, the sensation of being filled with a warmth that is merely indescribable. He closes his eyes and slowly soaks it in with his new found human emotions. Dean has given him something he doesn’t even know the meaning of.

It wasn’t long after that the hunter drew back, his body exhausted and his jade green eyes grow tired. Lines of things unseen, swoop under his eyes, etched into his skin. Cas watches over him quietly for some time, making sure Dean is deep asleep before he slowly takes his leave.

He reaches down to the floor of the Impala for his dress shirt, pulling it on and quietly catching up with all the buttons. Pulling on his black slacks, cinching his belt tight around his ever thin waist, and his shoes. Lastly pulling on his beige trench coat, laying the collar down flat and looking back at Dean. In one hand Cas holds a vile filled with Dean’s essence, the other is empty. He very carefully slits the hunter’s right wrist with his angel blade, collecting the blood that dribbles out slowly till the vile is full. Laying two fingers over the wound and sealing it before he opens the car door and slips out. He stares up at the star strewn sky momentarily, thinking on what he has just done, the trouble he will be in. The possible exile he will face with the things he has done.

He turns and looks back into the back seat of the Impala and shakes his head slightly side to side before closing and disappearing into the night sky with only the flapping of his wings, leaving behind feathers. 

He is willing to take the risk.


	2. Chapter 2

He is roused from his slumber by the sound of a hand beating down on the roof of the Impala. Yes, he is in the Impala, feeling the leather interior seats against his skin and he cracks open his eyes. Looking down his body, he finds himself naked and exposed. His spent cock laying uselessly against his belly.

Fuck.

‘Fuck’ is the right word to use for this situation. What the fuck happened last night? He forces himself to sit up and push the heels of his palms against his eyes with a groan. 

So he must have got lucky with a woman and she left after he hit the hay. Yeh, that’s what happened. That’s what always happens.

“DEAN!” yells Sam in an irritated voice and Dean groans lower. His brother is standing right outside and continuing to pound his flat palm against the roof of the Impala. “Dean, you decent?” He can only see Sammy’s back as his little brother is turned around.

“In a minute,” he mumbles, turning his head to the inside of his elbow as he sneezes. Opening his eyes once more and seeing a couple black feathers on his chest. Ooo, maybe a woman with a feather boa fetish.

He reaches for his jeans and pulls them on commando style and quickly pulling a dark gray v-neck t-shirt on over his head before kicking the door open and startling Sam. Tugging on some socks and his sneakers. All broken in and covered in dirt. The way of a hunter’s wardrobe.

“What is it? You couldn’t have just called me, like a normal person?”

“You weren’t answering your cell phone, Dean. Luckily your cell was on and I was able to track you,” Sam shrugs his shoulders and arches a brow. “So, I take it you got lucky, in the back seat of the car. Dude, I sleep there sometimes.”

“I know,” Dean gives him his best cheeky grin, pushing the door shut behind him. “You can go over the seats with some alcohol wipes later for all I care,” he walks around to the trunk, popping it open and throwing the lid off his ice chest. Snatching out a beer and popping the top.

“Dean, seriously...”

“What?”

“It’s only 1 o’clock in the afternoon.”

“My gut calls for it,” he the bottle upwards, tilting the mouth to his lips to drink. He feels parched, like he has been out in the desert for months and this was the first liquid to grace his lips. “Why’d you come searching for me, Sammy? I thought you were on your own hunting from now on, since I’m such a magnet for bad mojo.”

“Dean,” Sam whines lowly and Dean arches a brow at his younger brother, waiting for the answer.

“Well, come on Sam, spill it.”

“Dean, it’s not like I don’t like working with you...you’re my brother, the best hunter I know out there.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And...I kinda already lined us up a job.”

Dean drops the beer bottle, glad that he already had finished his drink, as it drops to the gravel below and shatters.

“WHAT?”

“A job.”

“Without consulting me first? Sam, I thought we talked about this. Alright, what is it about? You better lay down some good details to me. Entice me.”

“Okay,” Sam looks down to the broken pieces of glass and Dean knows his little brother is gathering his thoughts up for the perfect way of conveying the job to him in word that Dean can understand. “There have been some recent snatchings.”

“Snatchings? That’s nothing new, Sam. It’s called kidnapping.”

“Maybe...”

“Changelings?”

“No, no marks left on any of the houses of the missing people’s family.”

He moves some pieces of the broken beer bottle glass with his shoe, pushing them together in a pile. “Alright, not changelings. Dijnn?”

“Possibly,” Sam ponders now that Dean has got the ball rolling. “Or we could be dealing with something new all together.”

“Sam, we have dealt with EVERYTHING.”

“Don’t be too sure, Dean. There’s lots of stuff, monsters, we have yet to face or even learn about! Remember that trip we took to save that girl’s brother who was taken victim by a wendigo? You told me you knew nothing about those. How about that time when we faced Eve and her ‘Jefferson-starships’? Or, how about the fairies, Dean? Hm?”

“You...remember that?” he blushes slightly now, looking away from his brother. At that point in their hunting Sam was soulless, back from the pit.

“Bits and pieces, but yeah. But the message I’m trying to get across to you, Dean, is never doubt that you’ve seen it all,” Sam shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket and the two brothers just stand there quietly, neither saying a word to one another.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m so damn cocky,” he kicks the pile he has been making with his shoe and turns away from Sam. “Well, come on, we have job to do.”

Sam was reluctant for a moment before leaving the car he stole and slips into the Impala, taking his place on the passenger side of the bench seat.

“So, where is this job taking us?”

“Just...north western Washington, possible Seattle area. I’ll grab the details when we get closer.”

“Washington? Okay...” he sighs, turning over the engine and listening to his baby purr. Shifting into drive and away they go.


	3. Chapter 3

There are things to be done. Things that must be done in private. Things that must be unheard, unseen. Discrete.

Castiel was now up in heaven (his home), among the gardens and walking with ‘hitch in his giddy-up’ or a limp in his leg, he didn’t know which.

He makes his way to the place he knows he will not be disturb. His own little niche in heaven. Here, he can get away from the Winchester brothers. Here, he can be alone with his sins.

He takes a seat in his chair and pulls out the vials from the pocket of his trench coat and looks them over. These are his sins. One filled with Dean’s precious blood, the other with his even more cherished essence. Cas brings the vile up to his nose and takes in Dean’s scent and heavy lidded eyes. He misses the human already.

He gets up out of his chair and walks slowly up to a small table, an alter really, in the middle of the living area. Upon the table is his glass bowl.

Every angel is given a glass bowl, by God, when they are born. Each with what looks like a small bonsai tree kept inside, flourishing when the angel is feeling well, and which needs to be kept alive with the angel’s blood. Offerings, sacrifice, it is what keeps an angel alive and heaven to keep on turning.

These glass bowls are special to each and every angel (they are unique in every way, no two bowls are alike, unless the angels are twins) who receives them and are often seen as a status symbol throughout heaven. 

This is a way for angels to love and reproduce, be they heterosexual or homosexual couples. If an angel is to loose their bowl, or if it is broken, they are seen as an outcast (the bowls can not be merely replaced). The new angel inside feeds off of the grace of the angel whose bowl it is.

There are only two main key ingredients to creating a new angel and they must be poured into the glass bowl of the angel willing to be the carrier; the partner’s blood and seed (egg). A glass dome is then to be placed over the bowl, making it into an incubator and greenhouse for the new growing angel.

Cas now stands before his bowl and ponders upon what he is about to do. To do this is to go against heaven. Nephilim’s are prohibited, outlawed, abominations. Punishment just might be death to an angel willing to make a nephilim.

It’s a risk Castiel is willing to take, for his deep set ‘love’ for the famed hunter, Dean Winchester.

Cas stops in front of his bowl, holding the two sins in his hands as he looks down at his tree. He feels that now is his time. A part of him is telling him that this is wrong, he did not tell Dean a single word about what he is doing behind his back. Or maybe this is a little pay back for Dean never listening to him and doing the opposite of what he asks of him.

He opens the vial with Dean’s blood first, pouring it slowly into the bowl and watching the small tree’s branches begin to quake with what could only be described as ‘excitement’ or ‘anticipation’. Next he opens the vial with Dean’s essence, careful to empty it all out into the bowl. Watching it mix in with the blood, like water and oil. The branches of the tree shake a little more and then small leaves begins to sprout.

Cas has been told how this works, and it all is happening like he has been told. He moves the large glass dome over the bowl, hesitating for a moment with his hands on the glass before covering it with a cloth.

He can feel it, deep in his gut. A connection being made between himself and the tree. A bond unbreakable, slowly feeding off his energy to help keep it alive.

A broad smile pulls across his lips. Thinking to himself, what would Dean want? Most likely a boy. A boy to teach hunting to and take on trips in the Impala with. To teach him how to handle a gun, how to fire it and clean it properly. How to make rock salt bullets. But deep down, Cas has a feeling this new baby angel, nephilim, will not be a boy. No, but a girl. A small and innocent little girl.

He can feel his knees grow weak and he slowly kneels before the alter and bowl on the table. It’s already happening. The time for a growing angel is much shorter than a human’s. Longer than an Amazon’s. It’s already happening.

He feels he must return to the Winchesters now. Having no clue as to what the brothers have gotten themselves into this time.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lucky you, you get a chapter
> 
> It's my birthday, I feel nice :)

“For the hundredth time, Sammy, where the hell is the pie? How hard is it to get me a pie? Even just one slice will do,” Dean grumbles as he fishes through the plastic bag Sam has just handed him after shopping at the gas station stop.

“And for the hundredth time, Dean, I’ve told you that pie is not good for you. It’s nothing nutritional about them, and if you keep eating just pie, you’re going to get flabby.”

“They are filled with fruit, Sam”

“Sugar coated fruit.”

“And nuts...”

“You’re nuts.”

Dean tosses the bag into the back seat and turns the engine over with a twist of his key in the ignition. They still have a ways to go to get to their destination, and it looks like he is not going to be getting his pie for this trip. 

“Snatchings, huh?”

“Yeh, another news report on another missing person,” Sam mumbles as he scrolls on his new cell phone.

“And still no new leads?”

“Article says there were feathers at the crime scene. Nothing small like little birds, no, these feathers were like huge bird feathers.”

“Person didn’t own an eagle, did they?”

“Ha, ha, Dean. No.”

“Still don’t think I’m funny,” he frowns at Sam’s sarcastic laugh.

The rest of their drive is mainly in silence, neither speaking a word to each other. For a part of the stretch of road, Dean watches as his little brother nods off in the passenger seat. Reaching out to shake him and hikes a thumb at the back seat. Sam nods and slowly climbs over the bench seat into the back with a thud.

Dean admits, the drive is a scenic one. Nothing but deep dark dense forests and towering high snow capped mountains as they draw closer into Seattle pass Mnt. Rainer. When they reach Olympia, the traffic comes to a crawl.

“We there?” Sam wakes with a groan and sits up in the back seat, rubbing at his head as he stares out the front window.

“No, Sam. It’s called ‘sitting in traffic’.”

The rest of the drive is silent as they travel past Tacoma and slip into the south end of Seattle. Hearing the distant roar from the Hawks Nest stadium, where the Seattle Seahawks play. Dean was never one for team sports when he was a kid, he was never in school long enough to learn how to play in team sports. The only team work he knows is working with Sam, hunting monsters that go bump in the night.

Finally, through many street lights, they pull up into the Pioneer Square district, where they will be staying. Close to the crime scenes.

Dean gets out, opening the door to the back seats and reaches in to shake Sam awake.

“Hey, we’re here, Sammy. Grab your stuff and lets head in and grab a room.”

The negotiation between them and the owner of the building goes smoothly, no needing to bribe with $20 bills. They get a room right there and on the third floor.

Sure, it’s not classy, but when has their hotel rooms ever been classy? He drops his duffel bag to the floor before sinking down onto the bed. He could sleep for the next 10 hours easily. 

His cell phone begins to ring and he pulls it out of his jacket pocket. Looking at the screen to see who is calling him at this time. He stands up from the bed to stretch his legs.

“Hey, Cas...” he answers and doesn’t get another word in before Cas is already talking.

“Where are you at, Dean?”

“In Seattle, Washington. In some hotel off of pioneer square. Room 308...” he just instinctively tells the angel before frowning. “Why?”

He turns around at the sound of flapping wings to see Castiel standing there behind him, shutting his cell phone and slipping it into the pocket of his trench coat.

“Great,” he sighs. “You’re in on this too, huh?”

“In on what?” the angel tilts his head slightly to the left side and continues to stare at Dean with his blue eyes.

“The job,” Dean takes a step back and has to look away from Cas. Who taught him the ‘puppy dog eyes’ look? Most likely Gabriel. Damn that trickster angel.

“You found a job. Good, good,” Cas nods his head and takes a few steps towards Sam now. Sam hesitatingly takes a step back while looking at Dean, as if for permission to touch the angel.

“Hey Cas, yeh, we found a job here. And really close at that.”

“Does it deal with demons? Angels?”

“Still trying to figure that one out,” Sam takes out his phone and quickly searches for the articles he has been working off of to show Cas. The angel takes the phone carefully and stares down at the screen. Face scrunched in concentration and Dean knows he is reading ever single word.

“A creature,” Cas finally speaks after the long deadly silence. “A harpy.”

“Harpy?” Dean asks.

“You mean like mythologically, right, Cas?”

The angel nods his head up and down, answering the younger Winchester’s question. “Like in human Greek mythology,” he hands Sam back his phone. “Vile creatures, really.”

“Care to explain?” Dean looks pass Cas to Sam.

“Oh, oh yeh, sure. Harpies are half bird, half human creatures. It’s all making sense now.”

“How is this making sense?” Dean feels lost in the dark as he watches Cas and his brother nod their heads in agreement. 

“The literal meaning of their name means ‘that which snatches.’ Why didn’t I think of that before?” Sam is laughing now, mainly at himself for feeling so dumb. They have never hunted down a harpy before, and neither had their father. This is a new creature to add to their list.

“Harpies are vicious creatures and must be dealt with cautiously, Sam, Dean,” Cas addresses to both of them and Sam is the only one nodding his head to what the angel is trying to get across to them. “Neither of you are to be scratched by its talons. The talons of a harpy are poisonous and highly deadly.”

“Great, death. Just what we need. And from a giant bird,” Dean rolls his eyes now and throws his hands up in the air, turning his back on Cas and Sam. “Well, you guys, I need my four hours or so of sleep if we are going to prepare on hunting this thing down.”

“Agreed,” Cas slips his hands into his pocket and continues to stand in the middle of the room.

“Don’t you have somewhere to go?” Dean frowns at the angel.

“Heaven?” Cas cocks his head to one side. “I’ve already been there earlier. I do not need to go back. I’ll stay here, with you two,” he puts on a smile that has confusion on Sam’s face.

“Riiiiight,” Dean sits down on his bed now, grabbing his pillow and repeatedly hits it to work the fluff around inside. “Look, Cas, we really do...” He stares at Castiel as the angel’s eyes seem to roll back in his head and his knees give out and he falls to the floor. “Cas?!” he races over to him now and Sam is right there with him. “Cas?”

He leans his head down close to Cas’ mouth, listening for breathing as Sam holds two fingers against the angel’s neck.

“He has a pulse still,” Sam looks to Dean with concern in his eyes. “What happened? He was just fine a second ago...”

“Cas...come on,” Dean groans as he feels the need to give the other male CPR. Positioning the heels of his palms to Cas’ chest and giving a few rhythmic pumps up and down before leaning in to press his lips to the angel’s while pinching his nose, breathing air into him. “Come on, buddy...come on, you son of a bitch...” he swears between gritted teeth.


	5. Chapter 5

Cas coughs and heaves his body up as he blankly stares at Dean and Sam. He did not see that coming. With the help of the brothers, he sits himself up, one hand clutching at the tie around his neck, trying to desperately catch his breath.

Could this attack be related to what he had done in heaven, or is there something wrong with his vessel, Jimmy Novak? Either way, it would be best for the boys to let him stay here.

“What happened, Cas?” Sam is the first to ask, green eyes wide and wanting to know what went wrong. “You went white as a sheet and just dropped like a fly.”

Dropped like a fly? What does that even mean? He is still trying to grasp all the English language has to offer. So many sayings with so many meanings.

“I...I don’t know,” he holds a hand against his head and turns to look at Dean. The older brother is frowning at him. A frown that is connected with anger, instead of the frown connected with concentration. “Dean?”

“Don’t do that again, Cas. Whatever the hell it was,” the older Winchester pushes back, raising to his feet and turning his back to him. “Fine, it would be best for you to stay here instead of flapping your wings else where. You can have my bed, I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“Dean,” Cas tries to protest with the stubborn human.

“Zip it. I’m giving you my bed, you shouldn’t be complaining.”

Sam helps him back up on his feet and he watches as Dean disappears into the bathroom and the sound of running water fills the room.

“Ignore him,” Sam leads him over to Dean’s bed to sit. “You know how it is when he gets...flustered. He gets very defensive. You’ll be safe here, Cas.” He hopes so and nods his head. Removing his trench coat and tie; quickly kicking off his shoes.

Dean reappears after a good 20 minutes or so, dressed in a loose crew neck shirt and a pair of sweat pants. Walking over to his duffle bag and tossing some clothes at Cas.

“You can wear those. Hell of a lot comfier than sleeping in what Jimmy wears.”

He arches a brow, Dean remembers the name of a his vessel, amazing. He slowly takes the clothes Dean has given him and trades them for the ones he is wearing. Pulling back the covers of the hotel bed and slipping underneath them. Though he is an angel, and angels do not sleep, he will try to for Sam and Dean.

The rest of night is quite, except for the steady stream of traffic just on the streets outside their hotel room. He can hear the pitter patter of little feet in the walls, knowing it to be mice traveling from floor to floor looking for food. There’s a rhythmic sound of water slowly dripping in the bathroom sink and Dean’s snoring.

Cas enjoys this time, time among his ‘pets’. Before he knows it, the sun is up and shining through the curtains of their windows. Sam is the first to get up, walking over to the counter and making a pot of instant coffee. Dean is still asleep on the floor, laying on his stomach, face buried in his pillow.

Cas wonders if he could get use to this, being so closely around the Winchesters. He watches as Dean finally wakes and pushes himself back off the floor. Sam slips out of the room for a few minutes and returns with newspaper in hand. Intently reading all of the headlines.

“What’s it say?” Dean groans, running a hand through his mused hair and then rubbing at his eyes like a child.

“Another disappearance.”

“Shit,” Dean curses, raising to his feet now as he shuffles for the bathroom and slams the door shut.

“Same evidence?” he finally asks in a soft voice.

“Feathers found? Yes,” Sam answers with a nod. “So this harpy is stocking up for hibernation or something?”

“That is a very logical suggestion, Sam,” he pushes back the covers of the bed and swings his legs over for his feet to touch the floor. He has never took the time to look at the feet of his vessel. Such long toes.

“So we have a nesting harpy here...maybe...a young mother? Feeding herself because she is about to lay some eggs?” Sam is flipping through the paper, a mug of coffee in one hand and his full attention straight ahead.

Castiel gets up and walks over to the bathroom. Reaching out and turning the door knob, welcomed by a wall of steam and Dean’s rock singing. Right, Dean’s taking a shower.

‘The way we were  
The chance to save my soul  
And my concern is now in vain  
Believe the word  
I will unlock my door  
And pass the cemetery gates.’

Cas walks through the steam and pulls back the curtain of the shower.

“I saved your soul, Dean.”

“The fuck?” Dean scrambles, almost slipping as he pushes himself into the corner of the shower. “Cas! Personal space here. I’m trying to take a shower!”

“Yes, Dean...but what you were singing...”

“It’s a song, Cas. A song, by a band called ‘Pantara’. Just chill out. And get out of the bathroom,” Dean scorns him, trying to cover parts of his body from Cas’ eyes. It’s not like he hasn’t seen anyone naked before, let alone Dean. 

But Cas continues to stand there, eyes fixed on the hunter, mind going back to but a few nights ago in the Impala.

“SAM! Come get Cas, he’s freaking me out!” Dean yells out for his brother.

Sam pokes his head into the bathroom for a second before entering and laying his hands on Cas’ shoulders, turning him around and pushing him back out the door. 

“Let Dean clean up, Cas. We know he likes his alone time to sing in the shower."

“He sings?”

“Yeh, horribly,” Sam laughs, returning to sitting down at the small table in their room, in front of his laptop, continuing his research on harpies.

“Says here that harpies like to live in caves. There’s no caves here,” he frowns, mind turning over as he thinks.

“Isn’t there an underground city here, under our feet?” Dean comes out of the bathroom, scrubbing a towel over his hair.

“Yes,” Sam lifts his head and looks over at his brother. “The original beginnings of Seattle. It all burned down in a great fire of June 1889. They decided just to built atop the old. It’s just below our feet. You’re right, Dean.”

“Don’t you know, I’m always right,” Dean gives a cheeky grin with his cocky attitude. “Cas, you coming to investigate with us?”

“Ah...” he turns to face the brothers, not knowing how to tell them that he’s a bit claustrophobic. It was hard enough working up enough courage to pull both Dean and Sam from hell.

“Come on, Cas. You said you want to become a better hunter. Here’s your chance. Sam and I have never tracked down a harpy before, it will be an interesting lesson.”

A lesson, yes. A lesson in how to be killed. He doesn’t have the enough energy inside to heal the boys if they do hurt themselves, yet alone die. The nephilim back in heaven is slowly sapping him of his grace and heavenly powers.

“No, Dean,” he shakes his head side to side. “I can not. You and Sam go. But watch each other’s back’s. Harpies can blend into their environment and you mustn’t be scratched by one.” He walks up to Dean and lays a hand down over his chest, over his beating heart. And with those final words, he returns to heaven before collapsing to the ground once more, becoming immobile.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas <3

It had been a long boring week since Casiel last visited the Winchester brothers. The angel not even answering any of Dean or Sam’s prayers. Must have his angel radio turned off some how, tuning their whining out. Maybe, just maybe, he has grown tired of them.

They searched all of the Seattle underground underneath Pioneer Square after tour hours, every nook and cranny (even stepping off of the wooden plank platform that runs the whole length of the tour, just inches above the dirt floor). Only finding rat droppings and dirt, enough to make you sneeze for weeks. Fragments of the old city and rusty nails.

And no sign of the harpy or any other human inhabitance underground. It seems as if this case is just going to be closed without any real good leads.

The kidnappings had continued, but in less frequency and still feathers left at the crime scenes, along with blood. Sam and Dean had checked into it with the local police, analysts came back, no anything that matches anything living on this earth. Dead ringer for ‘their kind of thing.’ 

But at the latest crime scene, it seems the victim fought back against the attacker, the harpy.

Dean is standing in the living room of the apartment building with Sam, both dressed in their finest suits as they impersonate FBI agents. Inspecting the crime scene while people are running around and trying to clean up the mess. The window smashed and glass is scatter all over the floor with dark gray feathers strewn about.

“The victim is at the local hospital, she’s awake. They said we can go down and talk with her,” Sam walks up to him and speaks in a low smooth voice.

“Yeh, lets go speak with her. I really want this job to be over, for good” They return to the Impala and drive over to the local hospital to interview the victim. The hospital is busy and bustling, but Sam and Dean easily weave around everyone as a new emergency comes rolling in on a gurney.

Together the brothers wander down the north wing of the hospital while Sam reads name plaques, searching for one reading ‘Haven Hollow’. Their harpy victim they need to interview for anyone new leads on the case.

There are claw marks to her arms and to her face. She is laying in a hospital bed, hooked up to an IV and blood monitor. She looks to be no older than eighteen and right out of high school. Her long red hair feathering over her pillow. There’s dark circles under her eyes and her cheeks red from the medication the hospital is feeding her.

“Hello?” Sam asks quietly, approaching the bed first and Dean standing right behind him and peering around him. Watching her slowly open her green eyes and glance over at them. “Hi,” Sam gives a smile now that he has her attention. “I’m Hendrix and this is Zappa.” He pulls out his fake ID badge and flashing it at her. “We would like to ask you a few questions about your encounter. Anything that you can remember will help.”

“Yes, I understand, officers,” she shifts her gaze from Sam to Dean and then to the other side of the room, and then keeps her mouth close.

“Yeh, like, what did you see?” Dean arches a brow and wonders if they will even get much out of her. “Come on, spill it, girlie. I haven’t got all day. You know we have better cases to work on.”

“Your parter is quite rude,” she frowns at Sam and in return Sam jabs him in the ribs. “You wouldn’t believe me if I did tell you. And I would tell you the truth, officers.”

“Believe me, I will listen to every word you have to tell us on the case,” Sam gives that smile that has Dean turning the other direction. Apologizing for Dean’s rude behavior and continuing with the investigation.

“It was...half human, half bird. A giant bird,” she explains with wide eyes. “It had the torso and head of a woman, long wiry arms and.....huge dark grey wings. Her....skin was so pale and porcelain in colour. A creature like out of Greek mythology. It...was....it kept speaking of others. Like the other people it had taken. Do you think they are still alive?? Do you think it has...eaten them??”

“That is what our investigation is about.”

“Well, I hope that you find them. For it was naming off quite a few.”

“Thank you,” Sam closes his black book he has been writing notes in and turns towards Dean. “I think we are done here. You’re starting become whining. Come on.”

“Yes,” Dean whispers loudly under his breath and he and Sam leave the hospital to return to their hotel room.

Dean opens the door to the hotel room, Sam right behind him. The giant runs into the back of him as Dean stops dead in his tracks at the sight of Castiel in the room, sitting on Dean’s bed. The angel is quiet, hanging his head and staring down at his open hands.

“Cas?” Dean asks, a little shocked to see the angel since he hasn’t been answering their prayers and has been gone for a whole long week. Not helping them with their hunt of the harpy. Isn’t he suppose to be the Winchester’s angel? And yet here he is, in their room. “Castiel,” he frowns, approaching his angel and Cas lifts his head and looks in their direction. But his gaze is lost. He stands up, but Dean takes note that it takes Cas a few extra seconds of thought to do so.

“Hullo, Dean, Sam,” he gives them a slight smile and nod of his head, approaching them slowly.

“Cas, what are you doing here after being gone for a whole week without a word?” Dean frowns at the angel and Cas takes a step back slowly, looking at Sam behind Dean.

“I was...busy in heaven. I wanted to check in with you and Sam. Make sure that you and Sam were still alive. I was worried about if something happen if...did you find the harpy?”

“No, we did not find the fucking harpy. Thanks for the help, Cas,” he frowns and the angel turns his gaze to the wall.

“I said I’ve been busy in heaven.”

“Screw heaven business, Cas. You’re our angel, are you not? So help us,” Dean growls lowly and feels Sam step out from behind him to slowly push him back away from Castiel.

“Calm down, Dean. He’s here now and that’s all that matters, right? Lets not let this escalate any further.”

Dean looks around Sam with a deep set frown at Castiel. The angel is grating on his nerves at the moment and it would not be best to cross the Winchester line to anger Dean any further.

“Dean, please,” Castiel tries to plead with him, but he doesn’t know if has the patience to listen to the angel’s excuses. 

“Not now, Cas. Don’t test me. You’re on the line.”

“What does that mean?” he looks to Sam for the answer.

“Means what it means, with the tone of Dean’s voice,” Sam shrugs his shoulders. He knows best how to read Dean’s body language better than anyone. He approaches Cas slowly, laying his hands on his shoulders and turning him the other direction from Dean. “Maybe it would be safe if you return to heaven till we call for you.”

“I have no need to return to heaven,” Cas protests with Sam. Dean turns and quickly approaches the angel now, grabbing hold of the collar of his trench coat and gives him a shake. Rattling the angel, wide blue eyes staring back at him.

“I can not deal with you right now,” Dean growls through gritted teeth. He pushes the angel back and Cas reels back, trying to catch his balance, but falls.

“Dean!” Sam calls out, shocked, moving to help the angel back up. He tenses up tightly inside as Cas weakly tries to push away his hand from his stomach. “Castiel?” he asks lowly under his breath and the angel turns away from him. “Cas...don’t...you’re...how?”

Cas pulls himself and looks back at Sam sadly, catching Dean’s attention now.

“What’s wrong with you now?” he frowns, watching Cas on wobbly legs. But the angel does not answer, covering his mouth with his hands and stumbles into the bathroom to retch and heave. Shocking but Sam and Dean.


	7. Chapter 7

For the long last week of a growing angel’s life, the parent angel must take it into their body. Be it their natural form or vessel, they must merge it into their body. Castiel is now standing in his room in heaven, before his own bowl (it still covered by the fine cloth, shielding what’s underneath from the outside world, keeping it safe and warm), debating on what he has done. He must not hesitate now.

Slowly he lifts the fine cloth from over the bowl, peering in on the tree in full bloom and in its branches is a bright glowing golden light, globe in shape. The branches are bowing under the weight of the light. This is it, this is the essence of a new angel.

Castiel slowly removes the glass case from over the bowl and reaches in with gently hands and fingers. The light is warm, seeping throughout his entire body. Gingerly he lifts the ball of light out of the bowl and brings it level with his stomach, keeping his eyes on it. The last step.

With one hand he quickly unbuttons his dress shirt, exposing the skin of his vessel to the warmth of the light. Fusing it inside his body, it shifting through his skin and throughout his entire being. It is a sensation all not like something Cas has ever felt before.

Instantly he looses his balance and catches himself on the nearby table before he hits his head on the corner of it and knicks his forehead. His grace, it’s almost completely sapped from his body.

“Little angel,” he whispers lowly, laying a hand over his stomach. Slowly re-buttoning his dress shirt. He has this sudden urge to check in with the Winchesters, having been ignoring their prayers. Traveling down to Earth.

 

The Winchesters are not happy to see them. At least Dean is not happy to see him, but Sam is always polite to him. He tries to keep his cool about him. But things go south as Dean becomes physical with him and pushes him to the ground. Inside the angel stirs, disturbed from its restful slumber. Castiel is over come by a feeling only his vessel registers as ‘sick’ and he makes his way to the bathroom.

There’s a burning sensation up the back of the throat as he stares into the bowl of the toilet. Hearing skittering feet from behind him and Dean’s strong hands gripping his shoulders.

“Cas!” he pulls him back and he doesn’t put up a fuss, as limp as a wet rag. “Are you sick?? But...you’re...angels...can get sick?”

“I think it’s more than that,” Sam answers, standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. “Just get him back out here and lets get him to lay down for a bit.”

He feels Dean slip his arms under his, hooking and lifting him up on his feet and helps him back out of the bathroom. Moving him to one of their beds and making him lay down. His head is swimming, along with his thoughts. What just happened there? What happened with his vessel? Is it to do with what he did to it in heaven?

“Cas,” Dean sighs, sitting down on the edge of the bed, right beside him, one hand resting on his arm as he lays on his side. “What’s...wrong with you Cas?”

He dare not tell Dean or Sam what he has been up to. No. What is more important is for the Winchesters to catch and kill the harpy that is terrorizing this city.

“Lets let him be for awhile, Dean,” Sam suggests and Dean gets up to his feet. The two brothers look back at him before slipping out of the room.

Castiel moves his hands down over the slight bulge in his stomach, over the angel safely nestled inside. So this is the feeling that pregnant females feel with their young. Clearly, it is upset at what Dean did, shoving him about, but is settling back down for now. He shifts his eyes around the empty room now before sitting up slowly. Maybe he’ll just have to take the matters into his own hands. Find the harpy on his own and kill it, as any angel in his right mind would do. Protecting the human race.

He gets to his feet and almost falls, catching and forcing himself back up. With most of grace gone, he is no more an angel than human. But he must take care of the harpy anyway. Angel blade slipping down from his sleeve and into his right hand, grasping onto it tightly with his remaining strength. He will find and kill the harpy for Sam and Dean, they have enough on their plate. What does that mean? No matter.


	8. Chapter 8

“What the fuck is wrong with him, Sam? Did you see, he ran to the bathroom and threw up. Threw up! Sam, angels don’t even eat or drink! And yet he threw up!”

Sam shakes his head slowly side to side and a look of concern is etched onto his face, that Dean does not like to see on his little brother.

“Please...Sammy...tell me...”

“I don’t have any explanation, Dean. I’m sorry.” Sam sighs, but then raises a finger as a thought enters into his head. “But, what happened to him was very similar to what happens to a...”

“A ‘what’, Sam?”

“A pregnant woman in early stages of her pregnancy.”

“That’s sick, Sam,” he waves a hand at his brother and frowns in disgust. “He’s a dude. His...vessel is a dude.”

“Yeh, that doesn’t make sense there...”

He turns back to the room, reaches out for the door handle and opening it once more as they re-enter the room. The room is empty, a slight breeze is blowing the curtains beside the window, but there is no sick Castiel in sight. The angel is gone.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean curses loudly, searching every nook and cranny for the angel before giving up. “Where the hell could he have gone? He couldn’t really go very far with the state that he was in.” Dean turns and begins to pace the length of the room. “Cas? Come on, Cas! I’m sorry for...shoving you earlier...just get your ass back to our hotel room!”

There is silence and no angel in sight. He looks over at Sam as he watches him walk over to the open window, look out and then closes it.

“See anything?”

“Just the traffic down on the street below. But no,” Sam shakes his head side to side slowly. It seems Cas has left.

He sees something that catches his interest out of the corner of his eye. Walking over to night stand and picking up a hand written note. The most legible and beautiful calligraphy he has ever seen. He senses Sam walk up and stand behind him.

‘Dean, Sam, I am sorry for what happened earlier this evening. I was not expecting it. I’m sorry to have caused you any trouble at all. I shall be gone for some time and out of contact with you two, Winchesters. Please stay safe.  
\- Castiel’

“Fuck,” he curses as he finishes up reading the note and crumples up the note in his fist in a fit of anger. That damn angel, he is in no shape to be moving around, anywhere. They might have to throw off this case in search of his angel.

‘His angel.’ Is that what he really is calling Castiel now?


	9. Chapter 9

He can hear dripping water all around him. Pitter patter in the soft dirt below as he walks beneath the sleepy city of Seattle, sniffing out the harpy for himself. He knows this to be the perfect nesting area for the mythological creature.

He nearly trips over something as he catches his balance. His vessel’s eye sight is not all that great in this darkness. The only light he has is what shines through the violet coloured glass in the sidewalk above his head. He wishes he had a flash light with him. He turns to stare longingly at what caught his shoe and draws back. A leg bone. He must be drawing close to the harpy’s layer.

Drip, drip, drip, goes the water still seeping into the underground from the world above. Castiel steps off the board walk path now, heading for the darkest corners he can find. Mustering up what little grace he still has to light up his surroundings. Hearing a loud hiss nearby. Turning to his right quickly with angel blade raised.

Out of the corner of his right eye, he spots the creature. Fair of face and form, with lower half of a large winged raptor. They say this is the caught in-between state of an angel and human. Hopefully his nephilim does not turn out like a harpy.

She is quick, darting at him with such speed and grace that he looses his balance and she knocks him down to the ground with a thud. Quickly he tries to summon up enough grace to intimidate the harpy, lighting up the surrounding underground and flickering shadows of his wings against the closest walls. She does not fall for any of it, a grin on her face. Pinning him down with one foot, talons gripping tightly around his neck, claws digging into his skin, keeping him still. His angel blade having been knocked out of his hand and rolled a few distance away out of his reach. With her other taloned foot, she draws a long bloody trail down the side of his left cheek. From his eye down to his jaw, the pain searing into his soul, with the new sensation of feeling his vessel’s pain. 

She tightens her grip around his neck as he struggles, but his vessel grows weak, and so does he. Watching a smile pull across her face as she reaches down with her hands and cups his face almost tenderly. Brushing her fingers against the bloodied mark she has made, bringing her fingers up to her mouth and licking off the blood. She then yanks him up and drags him off to her nest. His vision begins to blur and everything goes blank.

He had blacked out for some time, coming to, laying among some dead bodies on the dirt floor of the underground. He pushes himself back quickly and gags at the stench. Clearly his vessel has a sensitive nose. There is light now, not too far away is an alter, littered with candles, new and old. He is without his trench coat now, his tie tight around his neck and his dress shirt is dirty, tattered and ratty, and unbuttoned. His hair is a mess, maybe due to the dried blood. She must have beat him around like a sock puppet when he blacked out, he only hopes his little nephilim is alright. There has been no movement inside for some time.

“Awake, I see,” she strolls in slowly into his line of sight, licking her lips with her pink tongue. Her hair is a dark charcoal gray, cropped short and jagged in the back, bangs in her dark black eyes. Her ears are a series of feathers, and her breast is ample and plump. Her skin is creamy and pale from the lack of sun light, her arms long and slender. Her legs are long and scaly, her talons ebony black. Her feathers are dark mottled brownish-black. A harpy.

Cas pushes himself back into a kneeling position, palms down to the ground as he peers up at her, sweat trickling down from his hairline and into his eyes. His mouth opens as he pants lowly and his lungs feel determined to get air but he finds it hard to breathe. He hopes that Sam and Dean do not come looking for him now. He can already feel the venom from the harpy’s talons entering his blood stream. Only hoping his vessel can hold off and fight it, but he can already feel the paralyzation taking over his body.

“An angel, what an honor. Never had an angel before,” she looks down upon him, licking her lips again and crouches before him. Her hands resting on her breast. He stares up at her with wide blue eyes and tries to plan his escape. Or maybe, he will just become the next meal for this harpy. Her under belly looks large and swollen, no less with eggs. A male harpy must be close by or he has already been through the area. Male harpies do not stick around for the next generation to be born. 

She raises her nose to the air and sniffs, taking in a few deep breathes. “Oh, an angel and babe. A ...nephilim!” His hand instantly slips down to press against his belly, seeking reassurance of the young inside.

“You will not lay a talon or finger on my young, you retched beast,” he orders with a hiss through gritted teeth. She laughs softly and smiles ever so slightly. There’s no way of throwing her off.

“I eat what I catch. You have no word in the matter, angel. You and your young. I shall gobble you both up.”

He does not like the sound of that, and can’t help as he goes weak and lays back down. His legs, he can no longer feel his legs.

“Oh, poor angel,” she takes note of his condition. Coming closer to him, cupping his face in his hands, leaning down to kiss him. Trailing her tongue against his lips, tasting him. He tries to draw back from her, but he can not. She picks up his hands and brings them up to lay against her swollen breast. She purrs softly at the feel of his fingers brushing down and against her dusky coloured nipples. “Can you feel it, angel? You are aroused, I can smell it. Your vessel can not lie and you can not deny it. You can have this,” she hisses with a purr, keeping his palms pressed firmly against her nipples.

“Stop,” he pleads lowly, his head and stomach swimming, feeling as if he is going to be sick, like back at the Winchester’s hotel room.

He feels as if he is going to be sick. This is not what he had envisioned. He envisioned finding and slaying the monster with ease, returning to Dean and Sam to see smiles on their faces; satisfaction that Cas has killed the monster, and they would have a little celebration. Not this. Not at all.

“You know the laws, angel. A human and an angel, are not allowed to procreate. And yet, here you are, carrying a young nephilim deep within your belly and no way to expel it. I can help you there.” She runs a claw down his chest to his belly button. “I can help you release it. And then, I shall eat it.” She laughs loudly and he shuts his eyes tight. “To take in the essence of a angel, I shall be unstoppable.”

She is right. With this vessel, he is unable to deliver his young into this world or even heaven. The only option is to be cut open. He can not go to a human hospital for that. They would never understand.

“I shall help you, angel,” she whispers lowly, looking into his eyes. At that exact moment there is a sharp pain from his belly and he gasps loudly, lurching forward. Staring at her with wide eyes. The corners of her mouth twitch and turn up, her eyes narrow and sparkling. “This may hurt a little,” she warns him for a second before digging her talons of her clawed foot deep into his belly, bringing forth so much blood, more than he has ever seen.


	10. Chapter 10

“He went after that fucking harpy without us, Sam. He’s going to get himself killed! And with the state that he is in. He’s so stubborn, that stupid fucking angel!”

“Calm down, Dean,” Sam holds up his empty palms to his brother, trying to get him to at least sit down and stop pacing till he wares a track into the carpet. “Maybe, he has back up.”

“You know how he likes working solo and not with other angels hanging over him, Sam,” Dean turns and glares at his brother with narrowed green eyes.

“He might as well be meeting his own reaper face to face. Where do you suppose angels go when they die, Sam?”

“Stay in heaven?” this brother answers uneasily.

“I highly doubt that, they already live there. I sure in hell hope not purgatory. Cas doesn’t need to go through that again.” His shoulders slump as he sighs deeply and turns to Sam, slowly sitting down now. Cas’ note, crumbled, still in his hand.

“Sam...”

“Yeh, Dean?”

“I have this feeling in my gut, that we should go looking for him.”

“After he told us not to?”

“Screw what he said. When has a note ever stopped us?”

They pack their duffle bag with the weapons they believe they might work against a harpy. Holy water, wooden stakes, silver, holy oil, you name it and it’s in the bag. Dean is taking everything to try on the new beast. Including his weapon he acquired in purgatory. There’s no knowing what will work or not work on it. And they have to save Castiel.

Slinging his bag over his back, locking up their hotel room, they make their way down the stairs to street level and out into the night. It’s a short walk to the entrance to the underground, pulling out his lock pick and springing the lock open. Returning to the underground for another thorough sweep in search of the harpy or Castiel.


	11. Chapter 11

His screams of pain and fear are loud as they ring throughout the underground, as the harpy’s talons rip into his vessel’s flesh and tear away his skin. Peeling him like a potato. The pain is excruciating and the venom of the harpy grips hold of his system tightly and he can feel his neck beginning to cramp up. He watches the pure enjoyment on her face just before she now reaches with hands to slip into his body. She withdraws a small thing, covered in blood and wailing.

Her black eyes widen with wonder as she holds his young to her own breast, rocking it gently like any female would do to its young.

He feels tears stinging his eyes and spilling from the corners of his eyes, over his cheeks, as he watches her with his nephilim. She has stollen what is most precious to him and most likely his life. Without his grace, he is a mere mortal (not able to wiggle himself out and return to heaven); in tune with his vessel, Jimmy. There’s no way he can heal his vessel of the harpy’s poison running through his blood. He can not form or speak his words to her, only able to watch as she tries to get his young for feed from her very breast.

“Yes, that’s it, little angel,” she purrs, her large wings unfurl from behind her and she cloaks them around herself and the young. “Feed, little one. So that you may have my strength. Maybe I will not gobble you up. No, maybe I will gobble your...” She draws her wings back and stares at Castiel. “What ever shall we call you? Mother? Father?” She arches a brow and he feels disgusted by that.

His body is growing colder with the loss of blood every second and his beating heart slowing down.

“I...am...sorry, Dean...” he whispers, voice harsh and ragged. “Sorry...”


	12. Chapter 12

The brothers stop dead in their tracks, flash lights trained in the direction of the blood curdling scream. Truly, that is what it was. 

“This way,” Dean waves his hand and Sam follows quickly. They hop off the board walk path and follow the tracks in the dirt. Drag marks, along with dry spots of blood. Clearly this harpy does not know how to cover up its tracks, or maybe it doesn’t even care that it can be tracked. Thinking it’s safe down here in the underground from any hunters or anything that wants to eat it.

They followed for some way through twists and turns before they come upon some source of light. Candles, by the way it flickers and dances across the dirt floor ground. The air is filled with the stench of death and Dean wants badly to pinch his nose, but they have to press forward, they are on a mission.

“Yes, young, drink...go on...”

They hear a voice and they both stop, quietly and slowly approaching the sound. Together they peer into the area that is the source of the light. Before their very eyes is the creature they are hunting. The harpy.

She is grand in size for any creature they have ever gone up against before. If she were to stand to her full high, she would be at least nine feet tall. She has large wings, that are folded behind her. The upper body of a beautiful woman, and lower body of a raptor. She is holding something in her arms, something resembling a baby, small and covered in blood.

“How’d she get a baby?” Dean hisses his question to Sam, not really wanting an answer in return. Do harpies even birth babies, or lay eggs?

“Shhh,” Sam frowns at him and holds a finger to his lips, pointing to the harpy. “Lets just get on with it. Questions and answers later, okay, Dean? We need to find Cas and get out of here.”

“And take out the harpy, right? I mean, that was the point of this case, Sammy. I want to kill that bitch.”

“Later, Dean,” Sam frowns at him, his gun ready in his hand and finger on the trigger. Just waiting for the right moment to strike. The harpy seems to be distracted with whatever it is holding in its arms and Dean darts out quickly from behind the wall. His eyes on the pile of dead bodies laying before him. Everyone who has been reported kidnapped. It seems as if this harpy is ready to hibernate, starting to horde its food like a bear.

As he makes his way over the bodies he feels a hand gripping around his right ankle and he trips. Catching himself with his hands and Ruby’s demon blade skitters out of his hand. He curses under his breath and takes a quick glance in the direction of the harpy. She is still distracted. He looks back at what he tripped over, flashing his light over the bodies.

His heart stops beating in his chest as he shines the light over a body with dark matted hair and a blue tie around his neck. 

“Cas!” he whispers loudly, turning to shake the angel. Stopping as he sees the large open wound in his stomach. It is gaping open, oozing blood and is clearly in need of medical attention. He palms the angel’s shoulders, giving him a little shake and getting a moan in return. So he’s still conscious.

“Dean.” Cas’ voice is rough and soft and Dean has to lean in closely to hear what the angel needs to tell him. “Can’t...leave...baby...”

“You want me to save the baby?” he frowns, trying to figure out why Cas would want him to do such an odd thing. But if the angel wants him to do so, he will save the baby from the harpy. She’s going to eat it anyways.

He reaches out and snatches up his demon blade once more, clutching in tightly in his grasp. Quickly glancing in Sam’s direction, needing to know if his brother is up for killing the creature without mercy.

He makes eye contact with Sam and motions to the harpy with a jerk of his head. Just at that moment she turns hers, eyes piercing and narrowed into fine slits, filled with an emotion that Dean can not place. But she is clearly not happy that they have crashed her little party. She hisses loudly, still clutching the babe to her chest as she turns her body in Sam’s direction.

In a quick beat of her large wings, she kicks up the dust from the floor, masking herself from their sight, creating a cloud and diversion. Dean coughs, bringing up his arm to his mouth and squinting his eyes, trying to see where she has landed She couldn’t have gone far. Hearing faint rustling and cursing, a struggle. He lays a hand on Cas’ shoulder before jumping over the dead bodies in the direction of the harpy.

He catches sight of her, she has Sam pinned down to the ground, but her back is to him. Sneaking up slowly and quietly with Ruby’s blade trained in his hand before he jumps on her back, burring the blade deeply into her body before giving it a rough yank downward along her spine. 

Her screams are along the line of animal in severe pain and her body shakes violently. Throwing him to the side and turning to face him. Swinging a wing around to clip him before they stretch out to full length. She is no pleased at the sight of him, or that he just dug a blade into her back.

“Foolish human,” she growls lowly. She is still clutching onto the babe in her arms, that’s slowly turning blue. He arches his back up off the ground with a low groan, rolling to one side. When she turned, she let up on Sam, letting his brother go. So Ruby’s blade did not work on her, they have more to try on her. “You have come to kill me, hunter? To take me back as your trophy and show me off?” she hisses at him. “I will not allow you to do that. No, hunter. You will be my trophy!” she smiles now as she approaches him, her talons digging into the dirt as she makes her way towards him.

“The baby...” he sits down now before her, rubbing at the back of his head.

“This?” she smiles, turning the newborn in her arms. “This is a nephilim.”

“Nephilim?” 

“Yes, human,” she frowns, a little disgusted at his lack of vocabulary. “A abomination. An offspring of an angel and a human.”

“What...?” he gets to his feet and continues to keep the harpy’s attention on him as Sam is getting ready this time with something different. A demon bomb should work just fine. But they just have to get that baby...or whatever...out of her arms and to safety.

“I stole it away from that dead angel over there,” she smiles and motion in the direction of Castiel’s body. “Oh how he tried to put up a fight. But clearly the young had to be born. There was no other way of freeing her from that human body cage.” The harpy then kisses the babe on top of its head as she shifts her gaze back to Dean.

His thoughts are swimming around in his head like big fish in a small pond. Nephilim. Offspring of an angel and a human. It came from Cas. Cas is male. She’s holding a baby. He pushes his hands to his head as it throbs from over thinking.

“Foolish, foolish angel. But he will make a very tasty treat for my new younglings and I.” Dean cocks his head to one the side and takes note then of her even swollen underbelly, cursing under his breath. That will be her weak point. They should attack her there. Come on, Sammy.

“You...got the baby from him?” he’s still confused on the matter, buying time for Sam.

“Did you not hear a word I spoke to you? Yes, I seized it from his belly. Peeled him open and freed the nephilim trapped inside,” she looks longingly down at the babe in her arms. “He has gone against all angel law to create such a thing. His mate must have been a very special human.”

“Let me see it,” he gets up to his feet now, laying down his blade, arms out stretched. He watches her hesitate, eyes open wide; clearly assessing the situation. “Look, it’s turning blue. I know how to help with that. Just...let me hold it.”

She growls lowly, her wings shuddering as thinks to herself about handing over the babe to him. She slowly sinks down low, shuffling towards him with her large taloned feet and holds the babe out to him. It does not look good. Bruised, purple and blue and barely able to open its own mouth to breath. He takes the babe into his arms and can only stare. It is covered in blood, an umbilical cord still attached to its belly and it feels as light as a feather. Dean keeps the babe close against his chest, pulling his jacket around it.

The harpy keeps her sharp eyes on him, clearly in on the fact that he trying to trick her. And he does. Turning as quick as he can, running from her, leaping over the pile of dead bodies as he sees Sam holding up a home made flame thrower. If it works awesome on wendigos, it will work on anything. Adios, bitch.

The underground is filled with the screams of the harpy writhing in pain. Set aflame like a phoenix. Sam has to duck quickly out of the way as she turns with her wings outstretched. He makes his way quickly over to him and Cas.

“We should get out of here,” he hisses at Dean, giving him a tug.

“Agreed,” Dean begins to stand, and then remembers the babe he his shielding inside his jacket. “Grab Cas, Sam. He needs to get out of here more than we do.” His little brother blinks a few times before helping the wounded angel up. They move together and Dean is the last to look over the burning harpy. 

They reach the surface together in tact, but Castiel is not doing too well, having lost a lot of blood. Dean has a feeling that he can’t just heal himself up like normal. He looks down on the infant in his arms, it’s still a slight blue colour and wheezing lowly.

“We need to get him and the baby to a hospital quickly, Dean,” Sam looks over at him with his serious gaze and Dean nods his head. Getting the angel and the baby to the nearest hospital before spending the rest of their night sleeping side by side, heads together, in the hospital waiting room. Both of them exhausted and in need of shut eye. It’s some time before someone comes to get them.

“Winchester?” the nurse asks, holding her clip board against her breast and eyeing the two of them, ragged and dirty. Dean is the first to open his eyes at the sound of his last name.

“Yeh,” he answers her. “Winchester. How...we didn’t really give any names to the secretary when we came in...”

“He told us.”

“He? Oh, Cas. Cas told you ‘Winchester’?”

“Yes.”

“He’s awake?” he gets to his feet now, not even shaking Sam, as his brother slumps over and snaps awake.

“Yes, he is. He’s in stable condition for now. But we need him to stay for a week or so. His wounds were pretty bad. The stitches are barely holding him together. The doctor also needed to find some snake anti-venom. What happened?”

“Long story,” he laughs lowly, scratching at the back of his head. “Can... can we see him now?”

“Of course. Just the two of you?”

“Yeh, just Sam and I,” he smiles and follows her through the twists and turns of the hospital wing, into the ICU. She opens a door into a small room with a large bed. There, under the pile of blankets, lays Cas. Sleeping like an angel. Beside the bed is an incubator with the newborn they saved, inside. “Sam,” Dean whispers for his brother to enter the room and together they stand over the incubator. The babe inside is now a rosy pink, no longer blue and purple with bruises or covered in blood. No, now it is cleaned up and swaddled like a baby should be. Together the brothers look over at Cas.

The angel looking more worse for ware than they are. Through it seems they gave him a through clean up also, his hair looking much nicer. Dean curses under his breath about Cas going after that harpy all on his own.

“Why are you so fucking stubborn, Cas? Going after the harpy all by yourself. Almost got yourself killed. I... I wouldn’t be able to deal with that.”


	13. Chapter 13

He feels as if he has been hitting his head against the wall for the past week. The throbbing behind his closed eyes wakes him up and he groans lowly. His vessel is slowly trying to heal itself and slowly his grace is being restored. It will take time.

When he opens his eyes, his first sight is Dean Winchester with his head down on the foot of his bed and sleeping peacefully. Slumped forward in his chair. On the other side of his bed is Sam, asleep also, with a book open in his lap and chin to his chest. The Winchesters are here, but where is ‘here’? He looks around his surroundings and takes in the sight of hospital, medical, instruments and curtains. The smell of sickness, death, and medicine.

The boys have taken him to a hospital in the city. Luckily in his vessel, he seems like any other human. He moves his hands, pushing his blankets down and the hem of his hospital shirt up to get a look at his stomach. It is all wrapped up, and yet spots of blood are slowly seeping through. He can feel the dull ache in his belly, yet the drugs are doing a good job at making him numb.

He is surprised that he is still alive after the tussle with the harpy, with the poison from her talons and her ripping open his vessel. Harpy. Sam and Dean must have finished the job. Hopefully.

He turns his head and look about the hospital room again. Beside his bed is an incubator and inside, swaddled and warm and safe, is his little nephilim. Dean really did save it. A smile tugs on his lips and he relaxes. It is safe. 

“Cas?” He hears his name, turning his head to see that Dean is awake now, rubbing at his eyes like a small child.

“Dean,” he answers back softy, his voice barely audible. He does reach his right hand out slowly to try and touch him. Dean actually touches his fingers for a few seconds.

“Hey, don’t talk,” he gets up and stretches his arms high above his head, groaning, and then flicks and cracks his wrist. “Don’t talk. Let me do the talking.” Cas nods his head and feels the time has now come to tell Dean the truth about what he has done. What he has done against his back, against all angel law. “The harpy kept calling that babe,” he points at the incubator, “a nephilim. Said that it’s an offspring of an angel and a human.” Cas nods his head up and down. “And that she took it out of your body.” He nods his head again. “Angels...”

“Yes, Dean. Even with male vessels. It his how all angels are able to have a young,” he turns his head away from the Winchester now to look at the incubator and the small infant nestled inside. He does not even know the sex. “What is...the...sex? Tell me, Dean, I must know...” He turns his head slowly to look back at Dean.

“A girl, a baby girl,” Sam answers now, waking up and rubbing at the kink in his neck with his left hand. “They say she’s doing okay for now. They flushed a lot of fluids out of her lungs and had to warm her back up with a few hot water bottles. But she’s safe in there now, Cas. You can relax.” Cas thanks his father, his little nephilim is here with them.

“Cas,” Dean grabs his attention back with the tone of his voice. “That...baby girl is yours...who was the human counter part to the relationship?”

“You,” he whispers his answer and watches Dean go shock still, eyes wide. “She is your flesh and blood, Winchester.” He can sense the tension in the air, between Sam and Dean. Both the brothers are shocked and confused in the manner.

“How...is that possible?” Sam asks, clearly interested in the manner of creation of angel, nephilim.

“It is in heaven,” he answers, resting his eyes. “I will explain to you later. My vessel...is very tired. I need to heal, my grace needs to...re-charge.”

“I won’t argue with you there. You rest up, Cas. We will be back to check on you later,” Dean gives him a half smile and pushes his hands against Sam towards the door.

He waits till the brothers have left his room before opening eyes once more to look at the incubator. On the side of his bed is a small red button with a plaque above reading ‘nurse’. He presses it gentle with one finger, it buzzes, and in a minute a nurse steps into his room. 

“Yes, Mr. Winchester?”

He points to the incubator. “Can I hold her?” 

The nurse hesitates for a moment before giving him a smile. “Certainly, sir.” She opens the incubator and slowly scoops up the small babe, cradling it in her arms before turning towards him. “Careful now, support her head.” Helping to put up his bed so he’s more in a upright position. He does support her head with ease and when the little babe is nestled in his arms, he feels himself relax. He can finally face what he has created. His little nephilim, safe in his arms, not to become a snack for a harpy. 

He leans down to give her a kiss upon her soft blond hair. It curls around her small ears and flips out against the nape of her neck. Her skin is soft and creamy white, with a light sprinkle of freckles across her cheeks, much like Dean. “Angel kisses,” he whispers, having picked up on what humans refer to freckles as. “Anna,” he whispers the name, it rolling out of his mouth with ease. “Anna-Lucia...” He kisses the top of her head again. “That shall be your name, little angel.”


	14. Chapter 14

“Like, ‘whoa!’, really, ‘whoa!’, Sam,” Dean and his brother step out of the hospital. “That was some freaky shit back there. Are you sure I haven’t been zapped by a dijn and am just dreaming all this shit up? Maybe one of those off shoot breeds that feeds off of fear.”

“You have not been zapped by a dijn of any kind, Dean. You’re fine. We killed the harpy and saved Cas. It all worked out,” Sam pushes his hands into the pockets of his jeans as they walk on their way to the Impala. He pauses and turns to his older brother, one brow arched up in confusion after a moment, speaking. “How did...?”

“I do not know, I don’t remember,” Dean laughs nervously as he rubs at the back of his neck, blushing slightly. When were he and Cas together like that? He has never really had a sexual thought towards the angel or any other man for that matter. He’s not gay, not in the least. As he has told Sam before, he likes experienced women. “I don’t even want to think about it, Sam. I’m sure it didn’t happen that way...” His head hurts from the thought of it and he looks to Sam. “Lets head back the hotel room. Cas is fine here at the hospital for some time. They are watching over him and helping him with his wounds.”

For the following long week they stayed in the city. Being tourist finally, having the time to relax and not have to think about hunting. Checking out Pike’s Market (Dean adds to bubble gum ally) and the newly constructed ferris wheel down on the water front and the old pier shops (Ye Olde Curiosity Shoppe is his favorite. Filled with so many odd things. A whale penis bone!). Watching the large commuter ferry cross the sound multiple times a day. 

Every day they made the short trip into the hospital to check in on Cas as he is healing, his grace being restored. Each visit, he is a little brighter, skin glowing and radiant. Each day he sheds a layer of bandage wrappings.

Now Sam and Dean are back in the hospital room with Castiel. The window is open and letting the slight breeze filter in. Good thing, it clears the room and clears his head. He has so many thoughts running through it right about now.

Beside where he is standing, is the incubator, in the incubator lays the small infant. A full head of blond hair peeking out under her knitted violet coloured cap. Dean stands over by the incubator as Sam and Cas are chatting up a storm about the harpy they faced and what new things they will need to add into their father’s journal. He looks down on the babe and feels a shudder wrack through his body. She sneezes and tries to roll herself over off her back. Looking much like a turtle rolled on its shell, Dean thinks and can’t help but laugh lightly at the babe.

“So, Cas...how did...when did...”

“Back seat of the Impala a few months ago. You were too drunk to remember (Purple Nurples) and had strapped tightly a blue dog collar around my neck,” Castiel answers without any hesitation or waiver in his voice. Dean gulps loudly and looks down at the floor, where he’s wiggling his right ankle in circles. He sure doesn’t remember doing Cas in the back of Impala. He can feel Sam’s eyes running over him now, in almost disgusts, he takes naps on the back seat.

“Dean?”

He hears his name and turns to look back over at Sam and Cas. The angels eyes are sharp and piercing now, like staring straight into his soul (if he really did have soul still inside. Alistair pretty much rotted his soul away with teaching him how to torture).

“Hm? What are we talking about?”

“The nurses say that Cas is ready to be discharged from the hospital. He can leave now,” Sam fills him in.

“And..her?” he points into the incubator.

“Yeh, and her,” Sam sighs, but there’s a soft smile on his lips. “Though Cas says he will take her up to heaven with him.”

The room is filled with silence until a nurse slips in with the discharge paperwork. Sam takes it and fills it out.

Together they help Cas out of the hospital bed and into some new clothes they have brought for him. A pair of Dean’s denim jeans and one of Sam’s plaid shirts. Making him like one tough Winchester. 

Dean loops his arm around Cas’ waist, helping him out of the hospital and back to the Impala. Helping him into the back seat and Sam reaches in and hands off the small babe, carefully bundled safely in blankets, into Cas’ arms. The brothers slipping into the front bench seat of the Impala. 

“Don’t you ever do anything like that ever again, Cas,” Dean growls, looking back over his seat at Cas in the back. The angel is hushed into silence. “I can’t afford to have you dead on our hands.”

“He means well,” Sam turns in his seat and gives Cas a faint smile.

It’s a quiet trip back to the hotel room in Pioneer Square that is becoming more and more like home to Sam and Dean. They help Cas out and make their way back up to their room. Dean pushing the key into the door and kicking it open. Sure it’s a little dingy, but it will do.

He doesn’t remember much of what happened next, until he sits up and his head is pounding, like from a hangover. Cas is standing over him, arms across his chest.

“What...happened?”

“You went limp and fainting,” Sam answers from the other side of the room and Cas helps him up and over to sit on the edge of his bed. He then hands the baby over to him. Having him cradle her in his arms. He feels his cheeks flush with heat, looking down upon her.

“Wh..what is her name?” he croaks.

“Anna. Anna-Lucia Winchester. Merciful, graceful, light. She is an angel, Dean, and much more, a hunter.”

“No, I...I can’t do that to her, Cas.”

“You will,” Cas whispers lowly in his ear. “It’s her destiny. As it is yours to teach her. She is a Winchester. She’s your blood, and she is mine.”

He can only turn his head to stare at Cas for what seems to be a long time before turning his attention back to the babe. “Anna...welcome to the Winchester way of life. You must be strong to ride with us. And I know you are just that and more. You will be great,” he whispers, can’t help the smile tugging on his lips and knowing that Cas’ eyes are on him also, but he welcomes it.


End file.
